


Fade to Black

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Metallica Songfics [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Songfic, but not really, kind of character death, supernatural s9 finale spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's thoughts and musings throughout the end of 'Do You Believe in Miracles?' based on Metallica's 'Fade to Black'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade to Black

Everything slowed down the moment the steel pierced Dean’s skin. Here he was once more, falling, fading, dying. He couldn’t say he was so disappointed this time. The Mark and the Blade were making him feel strange, making him do things he regretted yet enjoyed. And then he hated himself for enjoying them, which only made him want to kill more.

 

_Life it seems will fade away_

_Drifting further everyday_

_Getting lost within myself_

_Nothing matters no one else_

 

He wished Sam weren’t there, didn’t have to see, but he was glad for the companionship. Living with the Mark made him feel alone. Now that he was dying, he barely noticed it.

“I’m proud of us”

More than anything he was. How had they managed to get here? After everything-they’d done so much-fuck if he wasn’t proud of his little brother and himself. That was a team he wished they could be again. As the life faded out of him, he remembered their cases, their life, from back when Sam had just left Stanford. It was something he could never have again, and he knew it.

 

_I have lost the will to live_

_Simply nothing more to give_

_There is nothing more for me_

_Need the end to set me free_

 

Dean actually was looking forward to dying this time. The end would come, and he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. Finally the burden would be lifted. Time slowed even more as he thought about all the things that had happened since then.

 

_Things not what they used to be_

_Missing one inside of me_

_Deathly lost this can't be real_

_Cannot stand this hell I feel_

 

Going to Hell, going to Purgatory, the Apocalypse, everything that had happened to Sam, but worst of all the Mark of Cain. Dean could feel it practically _pulsing_ , even now when he felt so little. It hurt so much-not really the physical pain, he’d dealt with worse-but the mental and emotional damage of loving the feeling of slaughter.

 

_Emptiness is filling me_

_To the point of agony_

_Growing darkness taking dawn_

_I was me but now he is gone_

 

And most of all, he hated how he didn’t feel anything for the victims, no matter who they were. He didn’t feel anything for anyone, really, anymore. Not that he always showed it, but as a hunter Dean had alway cared about the families he saved. The only ones he didn’t care about were the monsters, and even then he tried to reason with them if he could. Well, on a good day. But now they were all alike: families, monsters, victims-if it got in his way or even annoyed him, he’d kill it without a hint of remorse. It wasn’t who he was. Yet in a way it was.

 

_No one but me can save myself but it's too late_

_Now I can't think, think why I should even try_

 

Looking down, he saw black smoke flow through his veins. He felt the power, as well as the lack of emotion. In all fairness, he should have put it together before now that he was turning into his hated enemy. Demon as he was though, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that he hated who he now was. It wasn’t as though it was the first time he’d hated himself.

 

_Yesterday seems as though it never existed_

_Death greets me warm now I will just say goodbye_

 

Dean felt himself fading, but he was no longer dying. He could not be sure whether or not he was falling. Memories of the good days, hunting with Sam and no other complications, slipped away. His few remaining emotions vanished, save for joy and rage. That younger Dean, that was the one who wasn’t _him_ , not the other way around. And now he was gone for good.

  
Two solid black orbs glared up at the ceiling as Dean, the demon, the successor of Cain, snapped his eyes open. He was ready to kill.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at http://singtheskyandfightlikehell.tumblr.com/ if you're interested. Comments are welcome


End file.
